


Like the stars chase the sun

by AndalusianSunshine



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Making Out, Pining, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/pseuds/AndalusianSunshine
Summary: Spending the week in Madrid to promote the Davis Cup, Gerard inexplicably finds himself on Sergio's doorstep in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos
Comments: 91
Kudos: 198





	1. Just a regular Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jarjarbinks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarjarbinks/gifts).



> (Hopefully) there will be a new chapter every Sunday until Kings Day!
> 
> Title borrowed from _Queen of Peace_ by Florence + the Machine

Gerard shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels, hot breath puffing out in heavy clouds against the cold Madrid air and he can’t help but wonder if coming here might have been a terrible mistake. His eyes dart nervously up and down the street as he waits, scanning the dark shadows with an ever growing suspicion that someone is lurking there, about to discover him any second now and he knows the sensible thing would be to leave and pretend that this was nothing but a misguided, spur of the moment decision, but the annoyingly persistent part of him won’t let him budge. 

It feels like forever that he stands in front of the heavy iron gate, waiting for so long that he almost jumps out of his skin when the intercom suddenly crackles to life. 

“Yes?” A distorted and somewhat disgruntled voice asks, but it’s still so unmistakably Sergio that Gerard’s heart skips a beat.

“It’s Gerard,” he says, his voice surprisingly steady, when the rest of him is anything but. “Can you let me in?”

“Pique?” 

And Gerard would laugh about the sheer disbelief in Sergio’s voice if he didn’t feel so crushingly vulnerable, standing in front of Sergio’s house in the middle of the night on a regular Tuesday with nothing but a flimsy excuse and his suitcase by his side. “Yeah,” he croaks, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants and it feels like an eternity until the heavy gates finally creak open.

It’s a short walk up the driveway, but by the time he finally reaches the house and finds Sergio waiting in the doorway, illuminated by the soft glow from inside, his heart is almost pounding out of his chest.

“Hi,” he says lamely, suddenly at a loss for words with Sergio standing in front of him like this, wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, his hair still damp and skin a little rosy, like he’s just gotten out of the shower.

“What in the world are you doing here?” There’s a hint of amusement in Sergio’s voice and a lot of confusion, but much to Gerard’s relief not an ounce of annoyance.

"Can i crash here tonight?" Gerard asks and he knows he should have expected the surprised look on Sergio's face, the raised eyebrow, but somehow it still stings.

Sergio’s mouth opens, his expression suddenly unreadable and Gerard half expects him to send him on his way again, but in the end he just nods and steps aside. "Yeah, sure. You can have one of the guestrooms," he says, motioning inside and towards the staircase. “Come on, I'll show you the way.”

“Thanks,” Gerard mumbles, but makes no attempt at following Sergio. “Can I have something to drink first?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager, like he's not desperate to prolong their time together.

“What do you want?” Sergio halts mid-step, turning to look at Gerard questioningly and for the first time that night Gerard realizes just how tired he looks.

Stalling for time, he rubs his cold fingers together and maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let the taxi drop him off two streets down from Sergio’s house because now he feels frozen to the bone. “Some tea would be nice.”

“Ok,” Sergio shrugs. “You can wait in there.” He points towards the door to their left and then he’s already gone, vanished through a doorway that Gerard figures must be the kitchen.

He lingers in the hallway for a few moments, letting his eyes wander over the dark marble floor, the giant paintings lining the walls and the beautiful plants scattered artfully all over the room and it would be almost tasteful if it wasn’t for the portrait of Sergio staring at him from across the room.

He rolls his eyes, smiling in amusement, because of course Sergio would have his house covered in pictures of himself. He ventures further, through the door that Sergio pointed out and there’s really nothing that could have prepared him for the assault of colors that is Sergio’s living room.

Eyes wide, he tries to take it all in, the sculptures and the sheer amount of furniture, the massive fireplace and as if the monstrosity of a pink couch taking up most of the room wasn’t enough, there’s patterns and suede everywhere, every free surface littered with photos and decorations, Sergio’s things scattered everywhere.

He barely resists the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as he drops down on the sofa with an exhausted groan, just as Sergio enters the room, carrying two steaming mugs of tea

“Here,” he says, thrusting the mug at Gerard with a weary look in his eyes and Gerard decides just this once to let it slide that Sergio is making him drink out of a Real Madrid mug, figures it’s what he deserves for dropping in unannounced in the middle of the night.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, warming his stiff fingers on the hot porcelain and watches Sergio curl up on the sofa beside him.

“So?” Sergio lifts his mug to his lips and carefully blows on the hot liquid. “Care to explain why exactly you need a place to stay?” he asks, glancing at Gerard over the rim of his mug while he folds his legs under his body.

Gerard’s eyes get stuck on Sergio’s bare feet. “Why do you have your initials tattooed on your foot?” he asks, amusement glistening in his eyes and he really shouldn’t be surprised.

“Nice try,” Sergio grins at him. “But I'm not that easily distracted, so spill.”

Gerard groans.” My hotel got invaded by the press. No idea how they found out where I was staying, but the place was crawling with them,” he takes a first tentative sip of his tea, almost manages not to burn his tongue. “I couldn’t even make it to reception before they were all over me.”

Sergio hums in understanding. “And then what?” he studies Gerard curiously. “You couldn’t find another hotel? You do know we have more then one here, right?”

“Funny,” Gerard rolls his eyes and if it wasn’t for the mugs he’d be very tempted to throw one of those garishly pink pillows at Sergio. “You know it would have been no use. They would have just followed me there.”

“Probably true,” Sergio nods. “But I still don’t get how exactly you ended up here of all places?”

“I figured it made more sense to stay with a friend,” Gerard leans back, gaze fixed on the dark TV, avoiding eye contact. “Somewhere a little more under the radar.”

“And I was the first person you thought of?” Sergio chuckles. “I can’t decide if I should feel honored or scared.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Gerard laughs a little shakily and he’d rather not dwell too much on the exact reasons why he ended up at Sergio’s house. “I went to someone else first, but they weren’t home.”

“This is starting to sound a lot like a joke, you know.” Sergio grins and leans back, stretches his feet out in front of him.

Gerard takes another sip of his tea and watches Sergio out of the corner of his eye. “Well it’s not. He lives right around the corner from you,” he says, trying not to sound too defensive and it’s really only half a lie. “So I figured I might as well try since I was already in the area.”

“Ever heard of using a phone?” Sergio laughs.

“I…,” Gerard starts but he really doesn’t know what to say and of course Sergio would find that one question he doesn’t have an answer to.

“Whatever,” Sergio mercifully lets him off the hook, sliding off the couch with a quiet groan. “I’m going to bed. I’m dead tired and you’re giving me a headache. Guest room is on the first floor, second door to the left. There’s towels and everything else you need in the bathroom. I'll see you in the morning," he lingers for a moment, giving Gerard a look that he can't even begin to decipher and then with an almost imperceptible nod to himself, he turns to leave. "Good night."

"Good night," Gerard echoes and suddenly finds himself alone in Sergio's living room.


	2. Is that a Banksy drawing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments on the first chapter. I've had a pretty busy week, but i promise i'll try to reply to all of them in the next couple of days :)

_The next morning ..._

“Hey Sergio…,” Gerard rounds the corner to what he assumes must be Sergio’s bedroom, following the unmissable sounds of flamenco until he ends up in the middle of a giant walk-in closet and he’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Sergio’s state of undress until Sergio turns to face him.

His eyes settle on Sergio’s naked chest and he’s unable to stop his gaze from trailing lower, down the hard planes of Sergio’s stomach, all the way down to where the waistband of his underwear is peeking out through the open V of his unbuttoned pants. And if he was any more coherent, any less distracted by that damn eagle tattoo and all that delicious bronzed skin so tantalizingly on display, he wouldn’t let an opportunity like this pass. He’d be teasing him mercilessly and endlessly for the Noble Donkey written in bold letters across his waistband, but as it is, his mind is completely blank.

“Good morning,” Sergio greets him with a smile, blissfully unaware of the dirty thoughts currently running through Gerard’s mind. “Did you sleep well?” 

Gerard nods dumbly and instantly feels like an idiot. There’s an unruly strand of hair falling into Sergio’s eyes and Gerard barely resists the urge to reach out and tuck it behind his ear, can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through it.

“Your hair has gotten long,” he blurts out, shoves his hands into his pockets just in case.

“I guess so,” Sergio laughs. “Is that what you came here to tell me?”

“No,” Gerard croaks, has to clear his throat so he can continues. “ I was wondering if i could stay here again tonight. It would be easier. You know, with the press.”

“Sure,” Sergio nods, like he doesn’t even have to think about his answer.

“Thanks,” Gerard says and he’s more than a little surprised that Sergio gave in so willingly.

“Don’t mention it,” Sergio shrugs, finally reaching for a shirt and Gerard can’t decide if he should mourn losing the sight of Sergio’s naked chest or be happy that he can finally think clearly again. 

“So what are you up to today?” Sergio asks, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Huh?”

Sergio rolls his eyes. “Your plans for today. I assume you’re in Madrid for the Davis Cup.”

“Oh right,” Gerard feels his cheeks heat up, hopes he’s not blushing too much. “Just a few interviews and a promo event later, nothing too major.”

Sergio hums thoughtfully, his gaze raking up and down Gerard’s frame and Gerard has to use all his strength not to shift under Sergio’s intense scrutiny. “There’s something missing,” he declares ominously and before Gerard can ask, he’s already started rummaging through one of his drawers.

Gerard takes the time to study himself in the mirror, black jacket with a black turtleneck, matching black pants and boots and he really can’t figure out what could possibly be wrong with his outfit, can’t decide if he wants fashion advice from Sergio of all people.

“Here,” Sergio suddenly appears by his side again, causing Gerard to jump in surprise. “This is exactly what you need,” he says, holding up a black scarf and he’s so close that Gerard almost feels himself drown in his warm brown eyes, could count every freckle on his nose if he wanted to. 

He just stands there, arms hanging helplessly by his side as Sergio comes up on tip toes and wraps the scarf around his neck, fiddling with the knot for so long it takes Gerard considerable will power not to lean down and brush their lips together.

“Much better,” Sergio says proudly and smoothes down Gerard’s shirt before he steps back. 

Gerard still feels the soft touch linger long after Sergio’s hands are gone. “Thanks,” he nods, unable to meet Sergio’s gaze. The scarf is soft and warm and smells like Sergio’s perfume and he really just wants to bury his nose in it and breathe him in. “I better get going,” he croaks and turns to leave before Sergio can answer, before he does something stupid he’ll regret later.

“Geri, wait.” 

He’s halfway down the stairs when Sergio catches up to him, a small piece of paper in his hand. “You’ll need the security code for the door,” he says, fiddling nervously with the note. “Just in case I’m not home when you get back later,” he adds and if Gerard didn’t know any better he’d think there was an almost shy look on Sergio’s face as he hands him the paper.

*

It’s late when Gerard punches in the code to Sergio’s front door and it feels strangely intimate, letting himself into Sergio’s house like this, without knowing if Sergio is even home.

The lights are on and there’s music playing somewhere in the house, but Sergio is nowhere to be seen, so he heads into the kitchen, settling the two heavy bags of take-out on the counter.

He’s almost done laying out their food when Sergio finally appears in the room, slightly out of breath and skin flushed.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. “I was working out.”

Gerard shrugs. “I brought Chinese food if you’re hungry.”

“I should probably shower first?” Sergio looks down at his chest, tugs regretfully at his sweat-soaked tank top sticking to his skin.

“It’s fine,” Gerard shakes his head. “I don’t mind and I’m starving,” he says and quickly averts his eyes before he lets on just how much he doesn’t mind Sergio walking around barely dressed, in nothing but a flimsy shirt and tight shorts. 

“Let’s go to the living room then. I wanna watch the SICAB roundup,” Sergio reaches up to get two plates from the top shelf and Gerard’s gaze definitely doesn’t linger on the supple curves of Sergio’s ass.

They eat in silence, curled up on the pink sofa and both of them too hungry to talk, the tv in the background the only sound in the room.

“When’s your horse up?” Gerard asks after a while, between two bites of noodles, trying to fish for another piece of chicken with his chopsticks.

“Next category,” Sergio says offhandedly and Gerard almost doesn’t notice him reaching out, doesn’t notice how he’s trying to steal a spring roll off his plate.

“Not a chance in hell,” Gerard grins, holding his plate just out of Sergio’s reach.

“Not fair,” Sergio pouts. “Trade you a dumpling for a spring roll?” he asks, looking at him with those damn puppy eyes and Gerard finds his resolve crumble much quicker than he’d ever like to admit. 

“Fine,” he grumbles and holds out his plate, let’s Sergio take the biggest spring roll without any protest.

Sergio studies him curiously. “Are you sick or something?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been acting weird,” Sergio scratches his chin. “You’ve been here for a day now and you haven’t made a single joke or insulted me once. You didn’t even flinch when i made you drink out of the Madrid mug and now you’re letting me eat your food. Something is up.”

Gerard almost chokes on his chicken. “You’re absolutely insane, you know,” he laughs. “I was just trying to be polite.”

“Please don't,” Sergio grins. "It creeps the shit out of me."

“Whatever you want,” Gerard smirks. “I can be mean, no problem.”

“Good,” Sergio puts his plate away and sprawls out even more, causing his shorts to ride up just enough to expose the full artwork on his leg as he turns his focus back on the TV.

Gerard licks his lips, suddenly hungry for something much different then food. Taking advantage of Sergio’s preoccupation with the horses, he drags his gaze up Sergio’s naked leg, shamelessly studying the colorful artwork etched into his skin and he’s really trying to come up with something mean to say, a tease or a taunt or anything really to rile Sergio up, to see that beautiful blaze in his brown eyes again, but just like this morning, there’s not a single thought on his mind, and all he really wants is to lean forward and lick every inch of Sergio’s skin. And it would probably be wise to look away before he gets caught and gives himself away, but he’s too mesmerized with every new tattoo he discovers, too desperate to see just one more to bring himself to stop.

It feels like an eternity when his eyes finally settle on the bunny on Sergio’s inner thigh and he’s sure on another day, at a different time, he’d come up with a multitude of taunts and witty things to say, but right now he’s too impatient, too distracted because he knows there is one more, one more tattoo that he’s been dying to see properly ever since the first time he got a glimpse of the swirling black lines peeking out from underneath Sergio’s rolled up shorts.

He’s almost trembling with anticipation when he lets his eyes wander upwards into dangerous territory and he’s not sure what he was expecting to find, something personal or suggestive maybe, but definitely not another famous work of art.

“Is that a banksy drawing?” he blurts out, cursing that once again his mouth is working much quicker than his brain.

“It is,” Sergio twists around to look at Gerard, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "But why exactly where you looking between my legs?"

"Maybe because you've put a tattoo all the way up there?"

"Which you wouldn't even have noticed if you hadn't looked there in the first place," Sergio smirks.

Gerard rolls his eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't put tattoos there if you don't want people looking?"

"Why are you such a nuisance?" Sergio groans.

"If i remember correctly," Gerard pauses for dramatic effect but mostly just because he loves to watch Sergio squirm. "You wanted me to be less nice to you."

"Ugh, i hate you," Sergio grumbles. 

"You might wanna save that for later and look at the TV instead," Gerard laughs. "Your horse is up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- SICAB is the International Purebred Spanish Horse Trade Fair held every year in Sevilla. One of Sergio's horses won last year and this year he had a couple of horses compete as well.


	3. Your sofa is awful

The first thing Gerard notices when he wakes up is that his neck hurts. Not the usual dull ache from sleeping on your side for too long, but a sharp, stinging pain, the one you only get from sleeping in places not made for sleeping.

He swallows a groan and blinks his eyes open, instantly squeezing them shut again when he’s hit by blindingly bright sunlight. He must have forgotten to close the curtains last night. Thinking back however he doesn’t even remember going to bed. The last thing he remembers is watching some terrible action movie with Sergio on the couch in the living room. 

He shifts gingerly, trying to figure out where he is without actually having to open his eyes again, but there’s something trapping his arm, a heavy, solid weight that’s keeping him from moving and he does open his eyes then, carefully gazing down and the sight in front of him almost steals his breath away. Sergio is sleeping peacefully on his chest, body curled tightly into Gerard’s side. One of his hands has snuck under Gerard’s shirt, resting softly on his stomach and Gerard has no idea how he hasn’t noticed before when now the simple touch is searing his skin and making his heart pound.

He takes a shallow, unsteady breath, afraid he’s going to wake him if he moves too much, unwilling to break their little moment for, well, forever really if he has any say in it and Sergio looks so peaceful in sleep, more vulnerable and beautiful than he’s ever seen him. 

He brushes a strand of hair out of his face, letting his fingers trail gently down the strong arch of his nose, down to the perfect bow of his plush lips and he can’t stop staring, can’t stop drinking in how perfect he look. And if that wasn’t enough to have his heart stuttering happily in his chest, there’s a thin blanket covering them both, carefully laid out to keep them warm and cozy and Gerard knows for a fact, remembers with unwavering clarity that it wasn’t there last night when he was still awake. So that really leaves only one explanation. Sergio must have gotten up some time during the night, covered them both with the blanket and then went back to sleep, cuddle up against Gerard’s side. 

Gerard finds himself reeling from the implications.

It doesn’t feel nearly long enough when Sergio eventually stirs, stretching and blinking his eyes open and blissfully unaware of his surroundings for a few short seconds before he notices Gerard’s presence.

“Morning,” he whispers, his voice still scratchy from sleep, gazing up at Gerard with bleary eyes.

“Morning,” Gerard returns, his heart tripping erratically at their close proximity.

“Sleep well?” Sergio smiles and presses closer, only imperceptibly, but Gerard still feels it all the way down to his toes when Sergio’s touch on his stomach becomes firmer.

“No,” he laughs, but it comes out shaky, wanting, and he finds himself caught in Sergio’s chocolate brown eyes. “Your sofa is awful.”

“My sofa is perfectly comfortable,” Sergio returns with a teasing sparkle in his eyes. “Must be your terrible back. I feel just fine,” he tilts his face upwards and Gerard’s gaze drops down to Sergio’s parted lips.

“Liar,” he breathes and it couldn’t possibly be any farther from an insult, not when all he really wants is to close the distance between them and slot their lips together.

They hover for what feels like an eternity, wavering so close that Gerard can feel Sergio’s breath ghost across his bottom lip and he’s almost gathered enough courage to close the last few inches between them, can almost feel the taste of Sergio’s lips against his own already and Sergio’s posture is nothing but expecting, begging even, his eyes heavy lidded and darker than Gerard’s ever seen them. There’s anticipation thrumming in his veins, his hands itching to press down in the small of Sergio’s back, to pull him closer and sink into his warmth and just when he can’t take much more, already moving closer, his alarm goes off, the blaring sound causing both of them jump in surprise.

“Fuck,” Sergio hurriedly scrambles to his feet, nervously running his fingers through his hair and looking anywhere but at Gerard. “Sorry,” he mumbles and Gerard really can’t bring himself to dwell on what exactly Sergio is apologizing for. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” Sergio adds, his face flushed from embarrassment.

Gerard lets his head sink back into the cushions, trying not to let on just how disappointed he feels. “Don’t worry about it,” he offers weakly, not sure what else to say and maybe it was wishful thinking that Sergio would return at least a fraction of his feelings when they’ve barely ever been proper friends, mostly just teammates and not even that anymore, but with Sergio lying next to him like that, all soft and pliant and his body fitting against Gerard’s like they were made for each other, it was the easiest thing in the world to make himself believe.

“Are you ever gonna turn that thing off?” Sergio pulls him out of his thoughts and for a moment he frowns in confusion, taking a while to realize that he never turned his alarm off.

“Sorry,” he fumbles for his phone, finally dipping the room into deafening silence.

“Thanks,” Sergio tugs on the hem of his shirt, nervously staring down at his feet. “What time is it anyway?” he asks, looking at his wrist and letting out an annoyed little huff when he realizes there is no watch there. “I gotta get to training.” 

“A little after seven,” Gerard answers and he hates how painfully awkward things suddenly are, both of them unable to even look at each other.

“Oh,” Sergio looks lost. “I should probably … go take a shower then,” he says but makes no attempt at leaving, rocking back and forth on his heels instead.

“Should i make breakfast while you shower?” Gerard suggests, desperate to get things back to normal, even if it means giving up on whatever just happened between them.

“Please,” Sergio nods, throwing Gerard a shy, but grateful smile.


	4. Don't take them off

When Sergio enters the kitchen an hour later, freshly showered and fully dressed, Gerard is in the process of making pancakes. 

“What are you doing?” Sergio asks, his voice even and not betraying the state of his emotions.

“Making breakfast,” Gerard answers, trying to look as casual and unaffected as possible, but on the inside his stomach is tied in knots. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turns to face Sergio, unsure of what to expect and he’s not sure he could deal with the painful awkwardness from earlier still being there, but much to his relief Sergio already looks a lot less skittish.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” Sergio smirks happily and Gerard is very much torn between throwing his spatula at him and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible for letting him off the hook that easily.

“Wanna keep talking yourself out of getting your share?” he teases softly and it feels good to be able to joke around again, to have things be back to normal already, even if he still feels a bit shaken up inside.

“I didn’t say anything,” Sergio throws his hands up in defeat, grinning at Gerard as he steals a piece of banana from the bowl on the counter.

“Hands off the fruit,” Gerard swats his spatula at Sergio. “There’s coffee over there and you can make yourself useful and set the table.”

Sergio rolls his eyes. “God, you’re bossy,” he laughs and walks over towards the coffee maker, but not before stealing another piece of fruit and popping it into his mouth with flourish, grinning at Gerard as he chews appreciatively.

“And you’re a nuisance,” Gerard groans, but he can’t deny the surge of affection spreading through his body, warming him from the inside and he really wouldn’t mind having this every morning.

“Can’t have you feeling to comfortable,” Sergio shrugs cheerfully and reaches for one of the mugs Gerard had lined up on the counter, a frown creasing his brows as he turns the blue cup over in his hands. “Where the hell did you find those?”

“In your kitchen?” Gerard flips another pancake onto the plate of finished ones and pours more batter into the pan. “In that cupboard over there,” he gestures towards the far side of the room.

Sergio scratches his beard. “Pretty sure I’ve never seen those before.” 

“Maybe you should spend more time in your kitchen?”

“I think I’ll leave that to you,” Sergio chuckles and moves over to Gerard, bumping their shoulders as he peeks into the pan, breathing in deep. “Smells good,” he hums, voice low and sultry and Gerard feels a violent shiver run down his spine. He busies himself with the food, and hopes Sergio won’t notice how flustered he is. 

He completely misses how Sergio steals a pancake off the pile.

“Can you grab two plates? I’m almost done,” he asks in an attempt to gain back some semblance of control, but Sergio isn’t paying him any attention, too busy savoring the taste of his stolen pancake, his eyes closed in pleasure.

“God, they’re good,” he moans and the sensual sound sends a spark of want through Gerard. “You should move in with me. I could get used to this every morning,” Sergio quips and the rational part of Gerard’s brain knows he’s not being serious, but oh how much he wants him to be just that.

“You wish,” he jokes, but it comes out strained even to his own ears.

Sergio gives him a strange look but then he just shrugs and moves to get plates and cutlery.

For a while they work in silence, Sergio finally setting the table while Gerard finishes their breakfast, moving around each other with a practiced ease, like they’ve done it a thousand times already and there’s something strangely comforting about the simple domesticity.

“Are you about done there?” Sergio pulls him out of his thoughts, looking up at him from where he’s leaning over the table and it’s more than obvious that he’s chewing on something again.

“What in the world are you eating now? Can’t you just wait like a normal person until stuff is on the table?” Gerard shakes his head, desperately trying to look stern and suppress the laugh that’s threatening to bubble out of him and he can’t help but wonder if it would always be like this if they were actually living together. The thought makes his chest tight with longing.

“No,” Sergio returns with a grin and plops down in one of the chairs, making grabby hands when Gerard walks over with the plate of pancakes.

Gerard laughs. “You’re like a five year old.”

Sergio sticks his tongue out at him before he takes a sip from his mug. “Are you gonna be home for dinner tonight?” 

“No,” Gerard says regretfully and tries not to dwell too much on how it makes butterflies erupt in his stomach that Sergio used the word home. “I have a Davis Cup function tonight.”

Sergio makes a face. “That’s too bad. I could have returned the favor.”

“And what? Cooked dinner for me?” Gerard shudders. “Are you trying to poison me?”

Sergio laughs. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“It ends with your cooking skills.”

“Spoilsport.”

“It’s called sense of self-preservation,” Gerard smirks and turns back to his breakfast, but now there’s an idea stuck in the back of his mind, persistently nagging at him until he can’t keep it to himself anymore. “Hey,” he looks up again, fixing his gaze on Sergio. “Do you wanna come with me tonight?” he asks, his heart beating wildly as he awaits Sergio’s answer.

“To the dinner party?” Sergio is staring at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

“What? It could be fun,” Gerard replies, trying not to sound too sulky.

Sergio snorts. “Only if you enjoy provoking nationwide gossip,” he retorts, but he must have noticed the crestfallen look in Gerard’s eyes, because suddenly his expression softens. “Look, i wouldn’t mind going with you. That’s not it,” he allows himself a placating smile. “But us going out to dinner together would probably break the internet. The press wouldn’t talk about anything else for weeks. We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Your probably right,” Gerard nods and it’s not like he can argue with Sergio here when he knows that he has a point, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

*

It’s long past midnight when Gerard finally gets back from his dinner. He’s tired and bored out of his mind and the last thing he expects is Sergio to still be awake, but as he enters the house the lights are still on and he finds Sergio curled up on the sofa and reading a book.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he says, but he can’t deny the happiness he feels inside, wonders if Sergio would be willing to watch another movie with him 

“I wanted to finish this anyway,” Sergio looks up from his book and every joke Gerard could have possibly made about Sergio and reading books goes out the proverbial window.

“I didn’t know you need glasses,” Gerard croaks, helpless against the heat pooling low in his body and he knows he’s probably staring, but God how could he not when Sergio looks this fucking good with a simple pair of black-rimmed glasses.

“Only for reading,” Sergio answers, his expression suddenly self-conscious and Gerard wishes he could tell him just how sexy he finds them, how he can barely think with all the dirty thoughts suddenly running through his mind. 

“You should wear them more often,” he offers weakly.

“I don’t think so,” Sergio reaches up to take them off.

“No,” Gerard blurts out and he doesn’t even care how frantic he sounds. “Don’t take them off. Please”

“What?” Sergio looks up, hurt flashing in his eyes. “So you can make some more fun of me?” 

“No,” Gerard has to swallow against the lump in his throat and he’s fully aware he’s about to cross a line, that he’s going to say something he won’t be able to talk himself out of. 

“Because I like the way they look on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everyone needs to see just how good Sergio looks [with glasses ](https://sergio-para-siempre.tumblr.com/post/187718019740)


	5. I forgot he was coming over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is starting to turn into a telenovela and i'm not even sorry about it:D

“What are you trying to say?” Sergio sits up on the sofa, book forgotten and there’s a look in his eyes that Gerard can’t even begin to decipher.

“Umm,” he mumbles eloquently and his brain is going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to say and maybe if he tries just hard enough he’ll find a way to talk himself out of this, pretend that he misspoke and meant to say something completely different or just flat out insist that Sergio didn’t hear him properly. 

It would probably be easy enough, he thinks, but somehow it doesn’t sit right with him. He’s done being a coward and his Davis Cup commitments are almost over anyway, so when Sergio inevitably shuts him down, he can just run back to Barcelona to lick his wounds in peace.

Mind made up, he digs his nails into his palms and takes a deep breath. “I …,” he starts, but it’s like the universe has it out for him because just when he’s about to continue, the doorbell rings.

“You’ve got the be kidding me,” he grumbles under his breath and even Sergio across from him looks strangely disgruntled.

“Who the hell visits you in the middle of the night?” Gerard snaps, a very confusing mixture of confusion and relief washing through him.

“Lucas,” Sergio explains. “I asked him to come over to help me hang up my new painting.”

“At one in the morning?” Gerard frowns in disbelief.

Sergio shrugs. “Why not?”

Gerard laughs, just as the doorbell rings again. “Aren’t you gonna answer?”

“Oh right,” Sergio shakes his head and turns to leave. “Sorry,” he mumbles, lingering in the doorway. “I forgot he was coming over,” and Gerard thinks he sees regret flicker in Sergio’s eyes, but maybe he’s just projecting.

He’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room when Sergio returns, Lucas trailing closely behind him.

“Hi,” he greets and he has no idea how to act, not when he doesn’t even know if Lucas know he’s been staying with Sergio for the last few days.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Lucas’ head snaps around to glower at Sergio, the disdain clear in his voice, and Gerard figures that’s all the answer he really needs.

“He’s been staying with me while he’s promoting the Davis Cup here,” Sergio explains, but there’s something off about his voice, a subdued quality to it that Gerard has never heard before.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Lucas asks, glaring at Gerard and Gerard wonders what he ever did to the guy to deserve such obvious dislike. Apart from a few matches at the national team and some less than memorable encounters during clasicos they’ve never spend much time together.

“Lucas,” Sergio reprimands, but God he looks and sounds wrong, too timid, too guilty and Gerard is starting to get the distinct feeling that he’s missing out on something important.

“Can i talk to you in the kitchen?” Lucas tone of voice isn’t leaving much room for refusal and Gerard hates how utterly defeated Sergio looks.

“You’re being rude,” Sergio says helplessly, and Gerard wishes that he could come to his defence but how could he when he doesn’t even know what he would be getting himself into.

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Lucas looks at Gerard challengingly, almost like he’s daring Gerard to contradict him, but Gerard would never do anything to make Sergio feel even more uncomfortable than he already is.

“It’s fine,” Gerard reassures, trying to catch Sergio’s gaze, trying to tell him without words that he doesn’t mind, that he’ll be on his side no matter what, but Sergio is resolutely staring at his feet.

“Come on,” Lucas grabs Sergio’s arm and drags him out of the room and the last thing Gerard hears before they disappear out of view and their voices fade into the distance is Lucas angrily hissing: “Have you completely lost your mind now?”

Gerard doesn’t hear Sergio’s answer.

He doesn’t linger in the living room for long after the two men have left. It feels too weird, too constricting somehow to stay in the house when there’s clearly something going on he’s not supposed to be privy to, so he decides to give Sergio some privacy and go for a walk.

He’s almost through the hallway when a stray fragment of a sentence makes him stop in his tracks.

“... it’s not healthy what your doing..,” it’s clearly Lucas voice, the disapproval from earlier now almost completely replaced by concern. “Are you trying to torture yourself?”

“I’m not…,” Sergio’s voice is less clear, more quiet and Gerard has to strain to hear the rest of his answer. “What was i supposed to do? Kick him out?” 

Gerard feels a shiver run down is spine. They’re very obviously talking about him and he knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop, already feels guilt wash through him, but it’s like he’s rooted to the spot, idiotically lurking behind one of Sergio’s giant plants so he can hear their voices more clearly.

“It’s exactly what you should have done,” it’s Lucas again, more force in his voice than Gerard would have ever expected of him.

“... i couldn’t…,” the rest of Sergio’s answer is inaudible and Gerard almost topples over the plant in his eagerness to get closer, but it’s no use and he figures they must have moved to the far side of the room, nothing but choppy fragments drifting over to him now.

“... pining ... it’s been years …should move on ...” 

Gerard groans in frustration and if anything he’s getting more confused by the second.

“... can’t be sure … what if … “

“You’re delusional if you actually believe that,” Lucas’ voice suddenly sounds much closer and Gerard hurries from his hideout, rushing up the stairs to the guest room before either of them finds him eavesdropping.

He barely sleeps that night, too many thoughts, too many questions running through his mind to let him find any kind of peace, so instead he tosses and turns until the sun finally comes up. 

It’s barely after seven when Gerard rolls out of bed, tired and cranky but with the realization that something needs to change.

He showers quickly, suddenly eager to talk to Sergio but then spends forever trying to figure out what to wear until he realizes just how ridiculous he’s being and throws on the first thing he finds in his suitcase.

Sergio however is nowhere to be seen when he finally makes it downstairs, the house eerily quite and empty, so Gerard wanders to the kitchen to make himself some coffee while he waits.

He’s just on his way back to the living room, coffee mug in hand, when Sergio returns home, closing the front door behind himself with a quiet thud.

“Morning,” he greets, his cheeks rosy from the cold, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“Morning,” Gerard answers a little shyly, not sure how to act after what he’s overheard last night. He lets his gaze travel over Sergio’s appearance, how he’s huddled in his oversized sweater, the hood pulled securely over his head. “You look a bit cold,” he grins.

Sergio laughs. “You’ve got some coffee left for me?”

“Here, you can have the rest of mine,” Gerard says and hands his mug over to Sergio.

Thanks,” Sergio smiles gratefully and takes a large sip, his eyes falling closed as the warmth seeps through his body.

“Where were you anyway?” Gerard asks, trying not to let himself get distracted by the soft strands of hair curling under Sergio’s hood.

Sergio puts the empty mug down on the staircase. “Walking my dogs.”

Gerard nods in understanding. “What’s up with the hood though?”

Sergio looks confused for a moment until realization dawns on him. “Oh this,” his hand comes up to touch the soft fabric that’s still covering his head. “My hair’s a mess. It was easier to just cover it.”

Gerard takes a step forward and maybe it's because seeing Sergio be this insecure about his looks feels so utterly wrong and completely unlike him or maybe it's because he's all out patience for that weird give and take they've had since the very moment he showed up at Sergio's house, but something snaps inside him at the bashful look in Sergio’s eyes and he doesn't stop until he's right in front of Sergio, making him stumble backwards until his back is pressed up against the doorway.

“Your hair is perfect,” he whispers fiercely, hands coming up to push under Sergio’s hood and into his hair and he doesn’t stop until the hood has slid off and his fingers are buried in the soft strands. And it’s almost enough, having Sergio look up at him like this, with his lips parted and a teasing glint in his big brown eyes.

He lets himself take it all in for a few stolen moments, the silky feel of Sergio’s hair and his impossibly long lashes, the way his skin softly smells like coconut and he’s already starting to reluctantly pull back when Sergio’s hand lands heavy on his hip, warm and insistent and not allowing him to move even an inch.

“Gerard,” Sergio’s voice is low and gravelly and it makes Gerard weak in the knees. “Are you ever gonna make a move?”


	6. Are you ever going to make a move?

Gerard’s eyes widen at Sergio’s question. “What?” he splutters and it’s like there are suddenly butterflies dancing in his stomach.

“I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” Sergio whispers and the deep rumble of his voice feels like a caress on Gerard’s skin. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know you want me,” he slides his hands under Gerard’s shirt, his strong fingers cold on Gerard’s sides and yet it still feels like he’s burning up on the inside. His hands involuntarily tighten in Sergio’s hair and Sergio’s soft little gasp at that almost undoes him, the way his eyelids flutter closed for just a second before they reveal even darker eyes, how he imperceptibly slides lower on the wall, like his legs aren’t quite steady enough to hold him upright anymore and the way Gerard’s towering over him now has a a surge of want rushing through him and _God_ he’s already half-hard.

“Even your excuse for coming here was flimsy,” Sergio continues, his voice full of dark promises, a lustful edge to it that sends tingles down Gerard’s spine, has him wondering if this is what he sounds like in bed. “Did you really think i’d buy that for a second?” Sergio’s chuckle is rough and his fingers relentless, fluttering and stroking, pulling Gerard apart at the seems without ever moving from his hips. “So why don’t you just do it?” It’s as much a challenge as it is a plea, the want more than clear in Sergio’s eyes.

"I…," Gerard stammers, but the words won’t come out and now that he’s suddenly so close to getting what he’s wanted for so long, he feels strangely shy.

Sergio grins wolfishly. "Who knew i'd ever see you speechless," he taunts, intent unmistakable as he pulls on Gerard’s hips and if they move any more he’s gonna notice just how hard their close proximity is making Gerard. “Just do it already,” Sergio’s voice is nothing but a breathless whisper and Gerard realizes it probably doesn’t matter with Sergio looking up at him like he wants to be devoured whole.

He tilts Sergio’s head upwards and leans down, finally closing the distance between them, Sergio’s lips warm and soft and welcoming against his own and the kiss is anything but hesitant, both of them too wound up to take things slow.

A low moan tears from Sergio’s throat when Gerard drags his tongue along his bottom lip, so he does it again and again, until Sergio is whimpering brokenly into the kiss, parting his lips just enough to allow Gerard to slip inside, meeting him eagerly and the first touch of their tongues sends a spark of electricity up Gerard’s spine.

He lets go of Sergio’s hair, hands sliding down Sergio’s back until they land on his ass, grabbing the supple flesh and dragging their hips together and it makes him dizzy with need when he feels Sergio press against him, just as hard and throbbing as he is and he can’t get enough of the way Sergio kisses, hard and insistent, yet so so gentle at the same time, unravelling with the sensual strokes of his tongue alone, every nerve ending in his body on fire, straining to get closer to Sergio, to have their bodies press against each other without any barriers in between and he’d happily spend the rest of his life doing nothing but kissing Sergio, but suddenly Sergio is ripping his mouth away, his hands pushing weakly at Gerard’s chest. 

“Fuck,” Sergio looks up at him, pupils blown and panting. “We have to stop this before i won’t be able to anymore,” he groans, his expression pained. 

Gerard looks dazed. “Huh?” 

“I gotta get to training,” Sergio explains regretfully, his hands twitching at his sides, like he has to force himself to keep them off Gerard’s body and Gerard wants nothing more than to drag Sergio back against him, to take him apart right there against the doorway, but as much as he wants to, he knows they can’t.

He lets his head sag against the doorframe. “Shit,” he breathes out, the sound more of a whine than anything.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Sergio pleads, hovering for a few seemingly endless moments and Gerard can clearly see the struggle raging inside of him before he gives in with a broken sigh and leans in for another quick but frantic kiss. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours and then we’ll finish this,” he promises, rushing up the stairs before he’ll change his mind again.

“Hurry please,” Gerard calls after him and he doesn’t even care how needy he sounds.

Gerard is still leaning against the doorway, still trying to will his body back under control when Sergio bounds back down the stairs, rushing over to give him a quick peck on the lips before he vanishes out the door.

At first he tries to distract himself by reading through the outline of his upcoming speech after Sergio is gone, but he just can't bring himself to concentrate, not when the taste of Sergio's lips still lingers, the feel of his soft skin and the sound of his needy gasps. 

He puts his phone away with a sigh and wanders to his room, wonders if he should take a shower, but it's barely been a few hours and he's still too riled up, too on edge to get naked without touching himself and the next set of hands he wants on his body are definitely not is own. 

And maybe he should go out and get supplies instead, he thinks as he combs his fingers through his hair, studying himself in the mirror, wondering if he’s imagining that his lips look swollen from kissing, colored red from the deliciously rough scratch of Sergio's beard, but surely Sergio must have lube and condoms somewhere in the house. Not that he's going to snoop through Sergio's things and maybe he's jumping to conclusions here, maybe Sergio wants to take things slow, but then he remembers how eager Sergio was earlier while they were making out, how impatient and hard he was and he just knows there’s no way he's going to spend the night in the guest room.

He’s on the sofa in the living room, idly scrolling through his phone and trying to fight the ball of nerves in his stomach when Sergio returns, appearing in the doorway with a bright smile.

“I’m back,” he greets him and he still looks as delicious as this morning, the mere sight of him so distracting that Gerard doesn’t notice the pout on Sergio’s face until he makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat.

“What’s up?” Gerard chuckles and how can a person possibly look this hot and adorable at the same time?

“I was hoping you’d be waiting naked for me,” Sergio grins, the pout quickly replaced by a lewd smirk.

Gerard laughs. “I’d rather make you work for it,” he teases, his voice dropping low as he beckons Sergio over.

“Want me to start now?” Sergio asks, crossing the room in a few quick strides, stopping only to climb into Gerard’s lap, wriggling around until he’s comfortably straddling him, his arms coming up to wrap around Gerard’s neck. 

“Please,” Gerard groans, grasping his hips to adjust him and just the pressure of Sergio’s weight on top of him is already making him hard again.

“God, I’ve been thinking of this all morning,” Sergio rocks himself back and forth, the friction sending delicious tingles through Gerard. “I could barely concentrate.”

“I’m all yours now,” Gerard whispers against Sergio’s lips, his hands sliding down the back of Sergio’s pants as he pulls him into another kiss.

It’s a long time until they separate again, foreheads touching as they gasp for air, Gerard’s shirt bunched up under his arms and Sergio’s hair a tangled mess, both their pants a little too tight to be entirely comfortable.

“Hey can i ask you something?” Gerard threads his fingers into Sergio’s hair, keeping their heads apart just far enough so he can look into Sergio’s eyes.

“Sure,” Sergio nods, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, almost making Gerard forget his question.

“What did i ever do to Lucas? I thought we were friends,” he forces out, barely recognizing his own voice.

Sergio suddenly looks strangely shy. “He’s just being protective.”

“Of what?”

“Of me.”

Gerard frowns, last night’s conversation playing over in his mind again, but none of it is making any sense, even less so than last night and what if they hadn’t been talking about him after all? “I don’t understand.”

Sergio smiles softly. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while,” he admits and the confession makes Gerard’s heart flutter ridiculously.

“And you told him?” he asks, not quite able to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Sergio shrugs, his expression vulnerable. “I had to tell someone. It’s not like i had any illusions we’d ever actually work out.”

“Sorry,” Gerard says apologetically. “I never knew.”

“It’s fine,“ Sergio smiles, his thumbs caressing the back of Gerard’s neck. “But you’ve been driving me crazy the last few days with all your mixed signals.”

Gerard chuckles. “I was so sure you’d punch me in the face if i ever dared to make a move.”

“Looks like we’ve both been idiots,” Sergio laughs, leaning in the press a lingering kiss to Gerard’s lips. 

Gerard smiles against Sergio’s mouth. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Now do you wanna keep talking about feelings,” Sergio’s lips curl into a mischievous smirk. “Or would you rather fuck?”

“Definitely fuck,” Gerard grins, relief and happiness flooding through him. 

“Come on then,” Sergio slides off Gerard’s lap and holds out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly never thought i could pull this off. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and the encouragement, i could have never done this without you all :)

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Kudos and Comments! Don't be shy, i usually don't bite :)


End file.
